


a different kind of blue

by robin_hoods



Series: your blue room [1]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Sleepovers, What Was I Thinking?, rarepair month
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 18:04:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7116865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robin_hoods/pseuds/robin_hoods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aoba really needs to stop fooling himself into thinking he's walking Mikado home for no other reason than to keep him safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a different kind of blue

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh. Yeah. This is a thing.
> 
> Thank you to letsrevitup for being willing to listen to me go on and on about how nobody's taken off their pants yet.

Kuronuma Aoba isn’t sure when his feelings for his senpai had shifted from something akin to respect, to something he begrudgingly admits is close to becoming affection. It must have been in the last couple of weeks, while they had been busy with their Dollars clean-up operation. He finds himself staying behind more often than not, dawdling while Mikado takes his time to gather his things – how long does it take a guy to shut down his computer? Surely not more than a couple of minutes? – and usually announces he’s walking the other home, or that he really needs to pick something up at the convenience store around the corner and would Mikado mind coming along, or even… Well. They’re not _excuses_ , per se, but even he has to admit he’s just doing these things because he likes spending time with Mikado.

Not that he’s noticed. Mikado can be surprisingly double-edged when it comes to the Blue Squares and the Dollars, but relationships? Aoba isn’t entirely sure whether his elder is acting deliberately obtuse, but considering his interactions with the people he calls his best friends… He’s erring on the side of ‘yeah, he really is that dense’.

Today is another one of those days. It’s late in the evening, and Aoba is checking his phone, his e-mail, the Dollars forum, while occasionally glancing in Mikado’s direction, who is still typing away nearly twenty minutes after everyone else has left. He’s a bit of a workaholic, really. (He should’ve seen _that_ coming.)  

“Say, senpai, don’t you think it’s time to go?” He’s not overly worried, but sometimes the cops come round these abandoned buildings to see if any vandalism is taking place (mostly by teenagers Aoba’s age, although he’d never lower himself to pointless destruction – violence and vandalism have to have a reason, otherwise it’s meaningless).

“I didn’t know you were still here, Aoba-kun,” Mikado says, a rather sheepish smile on his face. “It is getting rather late…” he trails off and fixes his eyes on the screen again. “Just one last thing.” He clicks a few times with his mouse, purses his lips while his brows furrow, and Aoba smiles to himself, because he likes Mikado most of all in these unprotected moments, when it’s just the two of them.  

A minute later Mikado is closing his laptop and putting it in his bag. “Were you waiting for me?” he asks, adjusting the strap on his shoulder.

“Oh, not really,” Aoba says, although he knows it doesn’t sound particularly convincing.

“Were you going to walk me home again?” Mikado continues, smiling, and, honestly, this is one of those time where Mikado knows exactly what Aoba is doing, even if he only knows it subconsciously.

“If you’d like me too, senpai.”

Mikado has a quick mind, and sharp wit, but he’s basically helpless when it comes to defending himself. It’s kind of pathetic, really. It’s part of the reason why Aoba does what he does, although he’d never admit this to Mikado either. After all, it would only take the simple act of being mugged, and Mikado would be taken out of the running. Considering what they’re planning for the Blue Squares, that would be rather anti-climactic.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Mikado conversationally says while they walk back to his apartment. Aoba’s checked the time, it’s nearly 11 so he should probably text his mother that she shouldn’t stay up and wait for him, although she’s used to him staying out until late by now. He probably won’t get home before midnight, anyway.

“You’d probably get kidnapped and ransomed before you could say ‘I’m the leader of the Dollars, fear my wrath’,” Aoba casually replies, his hands deep in the pockets of his coat.

“Are you sure that kind of thing happens around here?” Mikado wonders out loud. “Besides, I don’t think I’m interesting enough to kidnap. I wouldn’t be worth a lot of money, anyway…”

 _Not like the headless rider would be_ , Aoba thinks, but no one in their right mind would try and kidnap her. “Don’t worry, senpai. I’m sure we’d be able to get the ransom money together, in the unlikely event that you do get kidnapped. And you’re plenty interesting for us Squares, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, I wasn’t.” Mikado knows as well as Aoba does that they need him as much as he needs them. It’s a symbiotic relationship. They don’t necessarily have to like each other for that (Mikado made as much clear when they ‘signed’ the contract), but Aoba thinks he’s slowly but surely growing fond of them. Like growing fond of a bunch of dirty children who keep trying to steal all of the cookies when your eyes aren’t turned to them, and who deny any possible involvement concerning the disappearing condiments when you do notice any sneaking fingers.

They talk a bit more about their plans for tomorrow, and what else could be done about what Mikado nowadays calls temporary Dollars members. Their conversation about gang activities fills up the rest of their walk. Mikado says he’s been keeping an eye on the Yellow Scarves, too, and that some of them might be in the Dollars as well. Aoba truthfully is fairly apathetic towards Kida Masaomi, the founder of the Yellow Scarves, who in turn is Mikado’s best friend. Or is supposed to be, anyhow. They haven’t openly declared war yet, but both of them know it’s coming.

“Well, this is me,” Mikado says, and they both simultaneously look at his house. “Do you want to come in?” he asks after a pause. “You did wait for me, after all…”

‘At this hour?’ Aoba wants to ask, because it is pretty late. Mikado is looking at him expectantly, however, as if he can’t wait to play a good host at 11 at night. “Well, all right,” he agrees, and follows Mikado up the stairs to his shabby apartment. While he’s picked up his senpai plenty of times, he’s never actually been inside Mikado’s house, but there really isn’t all that much to see, he realises once he actually steps inside.

They both take off their shoes, leaving them next to the door, and Mikado deposits his bag next to his desk. “Would you like anything?” he asks, and then quickly follows that up with, “You can take off your coat, if you want.”

“Okay,” Aoba says, feeling slightly uncertain as he shrugs off his coat and puts it on a small hook next to the door, where a few other items are already hanging. When he turns back around Mikado has taken off his own jacket, and is currently puttering around in the kitchen with a kettle.

“Green tea is all I have,” Mikado says when he returns, looking a little more comfortable now that he’s at home. Aoba’s actually never seen him out of his jacket before. It’s usually either that or his school uniform. On top of that, the zipper of his jacket is usually completely done up, or his shirt is completely buttoned up, while there’s not a crease to find in his tie. And while Aoba’s seen him in his summer uniform, including bare arms,  it’s different from seeing him like this in his own space.  

They drink their tea in silence, at first, because Aoba has found himself at a loss of what to say next.

Mikado, on the other hand, casually asks him about school, and homework, nodding at the appropriate times and smiling when he has to. It’s not the first time that Aoba realises that Mikado genuinely is a nice guy, even if he occasionally breaks out of that persona in order to reach his goals. He supposes that most people in Mikado’s position – leader of an invisible gang – would’ve used that power for personal gain a long time ago. Mikado isn’t particularly power hungry, however. He just wants to do the right thing, even if it borders on the edges of wrong.

“Ah, Aoba-kun, I only just noticed… It’s nearly midnight, I must’ve kept you too long. I’m really sorry.”

“Nearly midnight?” Aoba checks his phone for the time. “Wow, you’re right. Time flies when you’re having fun, huh, senpai?” Mikado blushes embarrassedly.

“Well, I can’t ask you to go home at this time of the night. It—It could be dangerous!” Aoba raises an eyebrow, and Mikado averts his eyes. “I mean, more dangerous than it would be during the day. Um. You could stay here, if you want…?”

“If you insist,” Aoba slowly says, putting his phone back into his pants.

“I am,” Mikado says with a smile, gathering their empty cups and putting them away in the sink. Aoba watches his back, the long line of his legs towards sock-clad feet, while he rinses the cups off. As luck would have it, Mikado accidentally drops his dish cloth on the floor, giving Aoba an excellent excuse to ogle his backside. By the time Mikado turns around again, however, there’s no trace left of any desire that might have shown on his face.

“You’re so responsible, senpai, immediately cleaning up after yourself,” he gushes, and smiles widely when Mikado shrugs noncommittally.

“It’s not a big deal,” he says. “Um, I kind of have to get up early tomorrow, I promised my neighbour I’d help him out with his internet connection…. So I thought it’d be best to go to bed now. Only…” he trails off.

“Only what?” Aoba asks, mildly curious.

“Well, I only have the one futon. Um. I, uh, are you opposed to sharing?”

First, he thinks Mikado must be joking, but he looks so genuinely flustered about it that he decides against it. On the bright side, it seems his birthday has come early this year. “I suppose it can’t be helped,” he says.

“Ah, I’m glad. I’d feel really bad if I made you stay over and you wouldn’t even have a place to sleep. I feel like such a terrible host.”

“No, no, it’s fine, Mikado-senpai. As long as both of us are comfortable, right?”

Mikado nods in response, and gets to rolling out his futon. There’s an odd but not entirely unpleasant feeling uncoiling inside Aoba’s belly, and he shifts a little on his knees. There’s no denying he’s actually looking forward to this, even if Mikado seems intent on just lying down and falling asleep right away. But Aoba can live with that. He’s never considered that his… affection, if that’s what he can call his fascination, could be reciprocated in any meaningful way. Even with Mikado offering to share his bed, ultimately there’s nothing more to it. He’ll just have to take what he can get, in that case.

“You should take your pants off, Aoba-kun,” Mikado says, and if he’d turned his head any more quickly in Mikado’s direction he might’ve gotten whiplash from it. “You can’t sleep with your clothes on in bed,” he continues. “But if you want, you can borrow some of my pyjamas?” he adds, misconstruing Aoba’s stunned silence as him somehow being uncomfortable with them sleeping naked next to each other.

 “There’s no need for that, senpai, I can…”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Mikado insists, tugging off his shirt over his head. Aoba can’t tear his eyes away. “I need to do laundry on Friday anyway.” He tosses a shirt and some pants at Aoba when he’s put his shirt on himself. “Go on. Or do you need me to turn around?”

He starts to get up now, and the top Mikado threw at him unfolds in his hands. It’s the same one Mikado was wearing when he picked him up during Golden Week earlier this year. He begins taking off his own clothes, even if he feels a little self-conscious during it. It’s not that he’s ashamed of his naked body – he likes to think he’s easy enough on the eyes for most folks, even if his face is a little girly – but the way they’re going about it is all wrong, in his opinion. It shouldn’t feel like a regular sleepover between friends, because he’s not even sure if he can call the two of them that.

Mikado definitely shouldn’t have invited him into his house, his _bed_ , with the purest of intentions. It’s wrong, somehow. If Aoba had his way, this situation would have developed completely differently. They wouldn’t be wearing pyjamas, for a start.

He hears Mikado audibly sigh, and turns his head to look at him. During the time he was stewing, he’s actually already crawled into bed, and he’s giving Aoba a rather amused look. “Do you always take this long to change, Aoba-kun?”

No, he wants to say, because I usually just crawl into bed in my underwear. 

He shimmies out of his pants, one of his socks disappearing into a pant leg, and quickly puts on the pyjama pants, which are more comfortable than he had expected. He strips off the other sock, and then looks at Mikado again, who pats the empty space beside him. He’s already scooted over to make room for him. There’s really no turning back now.

“I haven’t had a sleepover in years,” he finds himself telling Mikado when he crawls into bed next to him.

“Neither have I,” Mikado admits. “The last time was probably before Masaomi…” he trails off, and then lies down. Aoba follows suit.

Their arms are touching when he lies on his back, and if he twists his leg just an inch, so are their knees. “Can you turn the lamp on the desk off, Aoba-kun?” Mikado asks, his voice right next to his ear.

He does as he’s asked, then slips right back under the blanket, making sure to lie just a tiny bit closer than he did before. It takes a while for his eyes to get used to the dark, so for a while he can just barely make out Mikado’s face, the rise of his nose, his thin lips. He makes sure to keep his head angled only a little, so he can look, but can’t be accused of staring.

Not that it matters. Mikado’s breathing evens out after only a few minutes, his head tilting to the side – away from Aoba, in this case. He scowls, sighs, then turns onto his side, because there’s no point to laying like this when he can’t even look.

It takes far longer for him to fall asleep. It’s a strange bed, in a strange house, with a strange ceiling, and although he would never admit it to anyone, the familiarity of his own room is far more comforting, even when he has a familiar warm body beside him here. Perhaps it’s even the fact that there somebody is there, when he’s used to empty space.

Eventually he must have drifted off, because the next thing he recalls is a hand in his hair and a voice whispering his name in his ear.

Sleepily he blinks and turns his head, Mikado’s face much closer to his own than he anticipated. A pair of fingers tug on a strand of his hair, bringing their faces so close together their noses briefly touch. “Senpai,” he murmurs, still sleepy, and Mikado smiles at him, bringing back that weird tingling feeling in the pit of his stomach Aoba has been trying so hard to forget.

“I’ve been wondering,” Mikado says, and even though he’s just barely awake, Aoba can’t help but hang on to his every word, “about your actions, towards me. First, I thought you might be jealous, although I wouldn’t know what of. Then I thought, maybe Aoba-kun is planning something, with the way he’s been looking at me, lately.” Aoba feels the tips of his ears going red, although he isn’t willing to define if it is from shame at being caught so easily. “But now, I believe you might have had ulterior motives.”

“What would those be, senpai?” he quietly asks, silent under Mikado’s calm gaze. He looks contemplative for a second, then he leans forward and their lips casually brush together. Soft enough to be tentative, but persistent enough to not be construed as an accident.

They look at each other silently when Mikado lifts his face away from his own, his eyebrows raised in a silent question, ‘Well, was I right?’

Of _course_ he knew. Aoba likes to pride himself on his intellect, and his ability to manipulate other people into doing his bidding, but somehow, Mikado sees right through him. He wonders if that makes him foolishly lovesick. He decides he doesn’t really care right now.

He uses the hand that isn’t trapped between his body and Mikado’s to pull him closer again, bridging the gap between them with his own mouth, and there’s nothing tentative about it because he knows just what he wants. He bites on Mikado’s lower lip, enjoys the noise of surprise it elicits, darts out his tongue to lick the corner of his lips, and then his teeth when Mikado opens his mouth. He breathes in through his nose, because he’s never kissed anyone like this before – but neither has Mikado, to be fair.

And Mikado slows him down, by leaning back, by pushing him down on the mattress and kissing the corners of his mouth, teasing and teasing, while Aoba bites and nibbles and licking the edge of Mikado’s ear when he has his head turned. The look on his face is absolutely worth it, Aoba decides with a smile, one of Mikado’s hands cupped around the side of his face, the edge of his thumb just touching Aoba’s lower lip.

He reaches down one last time and kisses him, open-mouthed, and when Mikado leans back his face is red and his lips are wet.

Aoba grins, even if he knows he must look the same.

“Maybe you should consider inviting me more often, Mikado-senpai,” he suggests, beaming all the while.

“Maybe I will,” Mikado says, and absently wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Breakfast?”

**Author's Note:**

> thank goodness it's rarepair month, that means part two will show up sometime later this month! :D
> 
> and to think I really only started writing this because I wanted a situation where Mikado tells Aoba to take off his pants. it spawned a series. oops.


End file.
